


There Goes My Hero, He's Ordinary

by kristen999



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Feelings, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Missing Scene, Post-Episode: s03e15 Eddie Begins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:14:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27623239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kristen999/pseuds/kristen999
Summary: Eddie has barriers that he doesn’t know how to release and Buck doesn’t know how to get through. It’s not until a rescue goes wrong that a few finally begin to crumble. Coda to 3x15 Eddie Begins.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 124





	There Goes My Hero, He's Ordinary

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tarialdarion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tarialdarion/gifts).



> A/N:Thank you to Stellarmeadow for being my sounding board. Huge thanks to Gaelicspirit for her awesome beta and suggestions!
> 
> I did research for this story, but I’m not in the medical field. Please forgive any inaccuracies :)  
> This also strays a bit from canon since this is my version of what we could have seen if the episode were longer and gave us the aftermath of Eddie's near-drowning. 
> 
> Happy Birthday tari-aldarion.

* * *

They were on their way to a scene, yet Eddie couldn’t stop thinking about Carla and Christopher’s visit to the station. It was just a grade school show and tell. Nothing more. 

Eddie couldn’t shake the feeling of unease it stirred up, how his body tensed in anticipation of a fight that never came, or how memories he’d tried hard to forget kept popping up like flashes of a YouTube video. Whooshing rotor blades, muzzle flashes, the lingering smell of cordite. He rubbed a hand over his face, the physical sensation chasing away the phantoms. 

He stared into the distance from his seat inside the fire truck watching rows of buildings fade into farmland. He played with the medal hanging around his neck, his fingers rubbing a familiar pattern. 

_“Saint Christopher, the patron saint of travelers,” Shannon said. “To protect you and keep you safe.”_

This was the third time he’d thought about Shannon since the morning. 

How had Christopher even found his stuff? All his Army paperwork was in a safety deposit box along with his and Christopher’s birth certificates and other important documents. His military uniform still hung inside the dry cleaner’s bag from the day he’d been discharged, and his medals…they’d been shoved away in box on one of the closet shelves out of reach of little hands and prying eyes.

Or at least he’d thought.

“Hey, Earth to Eddie?” Buck’s voice came over the headset.

Eddie looked up at Buck who stared at him from the seat across. “Hmmm. What?”

Buck snorted. “You were really zoned out. Still trying to figure out how to tell fourth grade level appropriate war stories?”

Eddie cringed. Stuff of nightmares was not something he wanted to share with a roomful of schoolchildren. After Eddie had returned home from his deployment, his father had waxed poetic about his son’s _war heroism_ for weeks. It still amazed him that Christopher had grown so attached to the idea. 

“Seriously. Are you okay?”

Once again Buck’s voice pulled him out the quicksand of his thoughts. Eddie gave him a tight smile. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look it.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Uh-huh. So, I was thinking. Maybe I come to Christopher’s show and tell, given the few times I’ve asked about your time in the Army, you’ve deflected.”

More accurately, Buck’s curiosity was usually piqued after they’d removed each other’s clothes. Normally, the acrobatics that occurred afterward was enough to make him forget. But Buck was an all-in type of person; he wanted to connect with Eddie on all levels. It was one of the reasons why Eddie was drawn to him, why he opened himself up to him. Just not as much as Buck wanted. 

“I’m not much of a storyteller,” Eddie said instead. 

“I know how to use Google.”

“How else did you learn to become a fire fighter,” Chim sounded off.

Buck rolled his eyes. 

Eddie knew he’d have to appease him with something. A worried Buck was a determined one. Buck was a nurturing person, but Eddie didn’t know how handle the force of those emotions when they were directed at him. Or how to respond with equal emotion. It bothered him, making Eddie feel like he was treating Buck unfairly.

Luckily, they arrived at the scene and Eddie hopped out before Buck pressed the issue any further.

* * *

The search for Hayden was quick; trying to figure out how to rescue him took a lot more planning. How in the hell could they reach a child trapped almost fifty feet down a narrow well pipe? 

Eddie stared at the family photo in the living room; Christopher’s smiling face replacing Hayden’s, a knot forming inside his stomach. Worry dug into his chest. Eddie pushed the terrifying thought to the back of his mind and walked toward the table where Bobby and the engineers rolled out a map of the property.

He listened to every detail of the operation, the schematics of the well, the possible underground structures that could impede the outcome. 

Bobby and the fire commissioner walked outside to coordinate with the drill crew.

Hen gathered some of the maps while Chim collected pictures he’d taken. “We’ll give this to the engineers to help them with surveying the ground.”

“Eddie and I will set-up the video and radio equipment.” Buck bumped Eddie’s arm. “You coming?”

Eddie felt drawn to all the family photos: snapshots of birthdays, school portraits, of Hayden with his siblings and his mom and dad.

Did Hayden’s father know what was happening to his son? Would anyone remember to reach out to him during all the chaos and inform him? 

He felt the weight of Buck’s gaze behind him, felt the energy and the need to move radiate off the other man. Taking one last look around the house, Eddie followed Buck out the door and into a light drizzle.

* * *

The scene bustled with multiple fire crews and engineers, dozens of people intent on the same goal. Vibrations from equipment went through the ground and into Eddie’s legs, the noise from the generators and whine of the drill a blur of pandemonium. 

Rain poured on them. Water dripped down Eddie’s face, his shoes sunk in mud as he maneuvered around the chaos. Lightning flashed and for a second, dusty farmland became the rolling hills of the Hindu Kush.

Eddie shook his head and walked over toward the computer screen showing the top of Hayden’s head. 

“We’re dropping in the radio,” Chim announced.

Buck helped lower the line using the pulley. He glanced over at Eddie and nodded, the two of them communicating their collective anxiety over the situation without words.

“Everyone switch off your radios,” Bobby ordered.

Eddie watched and listened, trying not to think of Christopher in such a cold, lonely place. Hayden’s mom talked to her boy, quiet reassurances slowly turning into hushed sobs, her misdirected guilt over the accident hitting a raw nerve deep inside him. 

Hen wrapped an arm around Hayden’s mom, pulling her away. Instinct took over and Eddie grabbed the radio and started speaking to the little boy, encouraging words rolling off his tongue, his heart beating with renewed determination. 

When he was done, Mrs. Benson thanked him through her tears.

“We’re going to bring him home,” Eddie promised. 

When it came time to have someone go down, Eddie volunteered. “I’ve been talking to him; he knows my voice. It makes sense that it’s me.”

Buck frowned, his jaw twitching with the need to say something, but Bobby started leading Eddie away.

Eddie had promised the boy help was on the way; it was his duty to fulfill it.

* * *

Eddie stood inside a makeshift tent sorting out equipment. Bobby had caving gear brought over hours ago and it had everything needed to go below ground. He removed his turncoat and sat on the folding chair to pull a set of coveralls over his clothes. 

The tent flap moved, and Buck wandered inside, his gaze trailing over the array of crates then back up at Eddie. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Grabbing a set of kneepads from the table beside him, Eddie started strapping them on. “I’ve had experience with this type of situation.”

Buck played with one of the headlamps. “You’ve gone down fifty feet into a hole to rescue a child from inside a pipe?”

“No, but I’ve dealt with cave-in triggered by an IED trapping people inside.”

“Is that when the thing you won’t talk about happened?”

“No.” Eddie purposely avoided eye contact. “That involved a helicopter crash.”

Buck’s jaw dropped. “With you _inside it?”_

Eddie searched for a pair of gloves, ignoring the question and the change in Buck’s tone of voice. Eddie didn’t want the attention or the worry. He was with the 118 now. There was no reason to waste time on the past, but Buck had a big heart. He handed Eddie his helmet, obviously waiting for a response. 

When one wasn’t forthcoming, Buck stepped closer and brushed his fingers over the spot below Eddie’s clavicle. “Is that when this happened?”

_AK-47 fire echoed inside the canyon._

_“Diaz!”_

Eddie wrapped his hand around Buck’s fingers, squeezing them before gently moving them away from the scar underneath. “I need to focus on tonight’s mission. Not the past.”

He ignored the guilt his avoidance created. 

Buck frowned. “You mean tonight’s _rescue?”_

“Yeah, that’s what I said.”

* * *

Seconds ticked away while Eddie was lowered into the freshly drilled tunnel. He held on tight, feet dangling, the light from his helmet bouncing whenever he turned his head. Everything reeked of damp earth and metal.

He provided constant updates via radio during slow descent, the sound of his voice the only thing keeping him company.

 _Come on._ It was taking too much time. 

Ten minutes into the journey he had almost reached the bottom. He started to shiver. Eddie strained to look down, anticipating the moment his feet struck the ground because if he was cold, Hayden had to be freezing.

Pulling out his portable shovel Eddie attacked the wall of dirt knowing he was racing a ticking clock.

* * *

Eddie continued chiseling at the wall with the drill, his arms trembling from the effort, until finally, he punched through. He didn’t look at the time, couldn’t waste another second.

Panting, he looked down, his heart almost giving out at the sight of the child, whole and alive.

“Hayden!” _God, he’d found him._

“Hey, it’s me, Eddie. I told you we were coming for you. Are you doing okay down there?”

Hayden’s voice shivered. “C-cold.”

“I bet.” Eddie radioed an update to his team. The kid was partially submerged, and the water was rising fast. “I’m going to need more time.”

Eddie spoke to Hayden, keeping his voice calm, forecasting all his moves. “I’m going to reach down for you. Let me do all the work.”

He reached out; stretching his arm as far as it could go, his gloved fingers brushing against Hayden’s, relief flooding through him — almost there. 

His timer went off.

His whole body jerked in response to the force on his harness as he was yanked away from Hayden and pulled up.

 _No, no, no, no, no._ Not when he was so close! Eddie wouldn’t leave Hayden behind. He couldn’t fail him. Not with the water pouring in. 

He scrambled for his knife while his back smacked against dirt and rock. With every passing second, he was pulled higher and higher until he was able to reach up with the blade.

Eddie cut the cord and fell twenty feet.

* * *

Hands scratching the tunnel on the way down, Eddie landed in a heap at the bottom, the back of his head smacking the ground. He lay dazed. 

_“Incoming!” Mills yelled._

_One moment they were airborne, the next their chopper crashed._

_Gunfire erupted everywhere, but he could still hear the screams of his crew, feel the kickback from firing his rifle, the burn of bullets ripping through his shoulder then his leg._

_“Diaz!”_

Eddie slammed his hands against the dirt to stop his fall, but he wasn’t crashing in a chopper, and his gloves were covered in mud, not sand. He licked his lips, rubbed his hand over the fading scar on his shoulder, over his wrist. He groaned at the dull throb from where his skull impacted the ground.

 _Hayden._ He had to reach Hayden. He was running out of time.

Scrambling back through the passage he’d drilled through Eddie found the little boy again, his heart pounding in his chest.

It didn’t take long to grab Hayden and bundle him up in a foil shock blanket. 

The little boy bent down and picked up something. “What’s this?”

Eddie’s chest tightened when Hayden held up the familiar silver chain. “Thank you, buddy.”

Why did he keep losing it? 

He secured it around his neck, thoughts shifting to keeping Hayden warm and secure when he heard another person coming down the tunnel from above. 

He smiled in relief when Chim arrived. “Thank goodness you’re okay. I was afraid I was going to have to rescue you.”

Eddie bowed his head; he did not want to imagine how many circles Buck had paced since the radio went out.

With a pat to Eddie’s shoulder Chim took Hayden back up. “We’ll drop a line for you. Just hang on.”

His heart still raced; even though the air was thinner, Eddie took a slow, deep breath to calm down. Hayden was safe. The rescue was a success. In a few minutes he’d be topside where he could take an Advil and a hot shower. 

But what he really wanted to do was hug his son, to see Christopher’s beautiful smile. He couldn’t wait to get out of here. 

Pacing was not an option. With nowhere to go, Eddie started cataloguing his gear, keeping his mind occupied until Chim lowered another line. He packed up the drill and shovel. Checked his oxygen tank. He squinted when the numbers fuzzed in and out. Yeah, he’d banged his head good.

Eddie fought back a slow, creeping dread. With the rescue over, and nothing to preoccupy his time, the _need_ to crawl out of this hole increased. 

Certainly, Chim had reached the surface by now? Water started filling the area he was waiting in, rain and drizzle falling down the tunnel, spraying his goggles. 

Deep down he knew the radio was crapping out, but Eddie tried it anyway. “Chim?”

Eddie peered up to see if he could catch a glimpse of his teammate coming down when he heard a rumbling sound, his brain screaming _cave in!_

He threw up his hands to protect his head when the whole world came crashing down on him.

* * *

Bullets bounced off the chopper, startling him to consciousness.

His team was trapped with the enemy closing in. 

There was no time to think. All he could do was aim and shoot, aim and shoot, providing cover for his team, and for the injured they were transporting.

Hell rained down around them; the screams of his team drowned out by gunfire.

“Diaz, wait!”

Eddie searched for Mills, but all he heard was the cry of a scared little boy.

“Mom!”

Gunfire faded into sounds of dripping water. Eddie’s eyes fluttered open to a sea of darkness. His head throbbed, his chest and shoulders hurt. But it was the frigid water pooling all around him that forced him to consciousness.

The radio, he had to find the radio. Request an Evac and get everyone to safety. He stared down at his arm, noting his uniform was orange and not camouflage. His fingers brushed over the walkie, the light from his headlamp illuminating the debris that had fallen over him.

Tunnel. Well pipe. He was inside a tunnel. 

“This is Diaz, can anyone hear me?” he panted. “This Eddie…I’m…I’m alive….” Still woozy, Eddie forced his aching body upright. 

He was inside tunnel fifty feet down, there was a collapse, and no one could see or hear him.

“I’m still alive down here,” he said more forcibly. The water level was rising, and it was dawning fast that his escape route was impassable. He was trapped and his only lifeline was a radio with a faulty signal. He started banging his fist against the dirt. “I’m still alive down here!”

But no one replied; the radio returned a bunch of static. Dizzy, Eddie started listing toward the wall, an overwhelming need to close his eyes making him fall forward. 

_“Is that what I think it is?” Buck asked, looking at the case._

_“It’s a silver star because my dad’s a hero,” Christopher beamed._

Eddie jerked awake almost banging his head in the process. Heart pounding, he looked around as the water continued filling in the small space. 

Fear gripped his chest and a constant throb in his head made it hard to focus. He turned around inside the cramped space, the light for his headlamp bouncing along dirt and rock.

There were two tunnels. The well pipe and the hole they’d just drilled down.

So, where was all the water coming from?

He had a minute, maybe two, before everything flooded. Eddie put on the oxygen mask and started following the rush of water to an opening in the rock.

It was the size of a sewer opening. He’d get through somehow.

* * *

The green glow stick gave him a few inches of visibility. Eddie bumped into walls, smacking his shoulder, his arms, his wrists as he waded through the underground reservoir.

He had no idea where he was going, instinct taking over, guiding him. He needed to find the surface. 

His heart raced, but he fought the panic. He had to get back home to his son -- to his family. He tried not to think about what Buck and the others were going through right now.

Using his hands to feel out the rocky surface, Eddie began to steadily rise. There were long stretches where he was only swimming in a straight line, not ascending enough, his oxygen meter flashing in warning.

_Eddie held his baby boy, but Christopher still cried. “He wants you not me.”_

_“You’re still a stranger to him,” Shannon said. “But you don’t have to be.”_

The flashing turned into a red warning light. His O2 was out.

Reaching a pocket of air, Eddie took one final gasp. This was it….

Eddie pushed forward, the rocky confines giving way to open water.

He kept kicking, kept pushing, seeking the surface. But the water was endless, and he was getting weaker, his chest burning from lack of air. 

_“You have a kid?” Buck asked surprised._

_“Yeah, a son. Christopher.”_

_“He’s adorable. I love kids.”_

_“I love this one.”_

Grey rounded the edges of his vision. Eddie fought against it. He needed to get back to his son, to those he loved. 

_“I missed the camaraderie from the Army. But I found a family with the 118.”_

Eddie floated.

_“What are you doing?” Buck yelled. “Come on, fight!”_

_“Eddie, Christopher needs you,” Shannon implored._

_“Daddy!”_

Eddie startled awake and started pushing with all his might upward. 

He gasped, swallowing mouthfuls of water. His throat spasmed. Spots danced across his vision, his head felt like it might split in two, but still Eddie kicked and kicked and kicked–-until finally, he broke through the surface.

He wheezed, choking for air, spitting out pond water. Eddie almost went under again, but he floated onto his back, still panting. He yanked his goggles off just to feel fresh air on his face.

Exhausted, he saw the flashing red and blue lights of emergency vehicles in the distance.

 _Help._ He needed help. 

_“Diaz, I’m out of ammo!”_

Arms and legs shaking, Eddie crawled out of the pound. He almost face planted a second later. His skin was ice cold; he couldn’t feel his face or his hands and feet—even with the protective gear on. 

The flashing lights were his beacon home.

He kept placing one foot in front of the other, tripping over rocks, falling to the ground and picking himself back up again. His chest hurt and his throat felt painfully raw. He knew he was hypothermic; he needed to keep moving, keep generating heat.

There was no telling if anyone would see him—if they were even looking for him. 

God, he was tired. 

The world started spinning.

He kept moving; he didn’t know for how long, until flashing lights turned into fire trucks and first responders. 

Giddy, he wavered on his feet as he approached those gathered in a group, discussing a rescue plan— _to find him._

“We’ll use thermal cams to search for Diaz’s heat signature.”

Eddie stumbled toward them. “That might be hard. I’m pretty cold.”

He couldn’t stop his fall this time. But hands grabbed him, Bobby, Hen and Buck supporting him.

“I’ve got you,” Buck reassured, promised. “I’ve got you.”

And for once, Eddie allowed himself to be carried, to give in to the care of those around him. Allowed Buck to hold him; allowed him past all of Eddie’s protective barriers. 

“Make a hole,” Bobby yelled.

“Thank you,” he whispered to them, to Buck. For not giving up, he wanted to add but was too exhausted to say. 

Buck took most of Eddie’s weight, dragging him along, until finally, Eddie’s body simply gave out.

* * *

Buck had never experienced such a rollercoaster of emotions in such a short period of time. Gloom at the insurmountable task of the search, jubilation at seeing Eddie stumble toward them out of nowhere, then seconds later – fear as Eddie sagged in Buck’s and Bobby’s arms.

“Whoa, whoa.” The moment Eddie started toward the ground Buck gripped him tighter. “Cap!”

“Let’s lay him flat,” Bobby said.

“Eddie, we’ve got you, okay?” Buck said gently lowering him to the ground. 

They were close enough to one of the ambulances that Chim had run ahead and returned carrying shock blankets. A few other responders brought equipment and a backboard before standing back to give them room. 

Once Bobby and Buck placed Eddie on the back board, Hen knelt beside him. “Eddie? How are we doing?” 

Eddie blinked up at Hen in confusion, his wheezing loud in the surrounding silence. 

“Eddie?” Buck tried getting his attention. 

Eddie glanced over at Buck, his breathing more labored. The lack of recognition in his eyes making Buck’s stomach twist. This level of disorientation indicated a significant amount of hypoxia. 

Buck grabbed Eddie’s cold gloved hand and squeezed it, but Eddie didn’t squeeze back. In fact, his head started lolling to the side. 

“Eddie?” Hen leaned over his face. “Can you hear me?” 

Frowning, she pinched his earlobe and did a sternal rub. “Unresponsive to stimuli. Skin’s pale, lips cyanotic.” 

Those words sent a chill down Buck’s spine. These were all indications of a near-drowning. There were so many factors they needed to monitor and treat…so many possible complications. But there was a hierarchy.

“All right, we’ve all done this before. We stick to the basics,” Bobby encouraged. “Airway, breathing, and compressions in that order.”

Grabbing scissors from the kit, Buck started cutting away Eddie’s coveralls while Hen placed EKG leads to Eddie’s chest. Buck made the mistake of looking at Eddie’s face, seeing his eyes closed, his skin deathly place, his whole body lax. It sent a jolt of panic through him.

Buck almost knocked over the med kit in search of a thermometer. Taking a breath, he composed himself and focused. “Temp’s 89F.”

Too low. _Damn it, Eds._

Pulling out his stethoscope, Chim knelt at Eddie’s head, resting a finger on his bicep. “Weak brachial pulse.” Tilting his ear over Eddie’s lips. “Very shallow breath sounds.” 

Chim placed the bag-mask over Eddie’s nose and mouth and began manual ventilation, squeezing the bag.

Buck would have preferred giving him humidified O2, but Eddie needed more support. 

Hen started working from Eddie’s other side. “IV’s wide open. Pushing epinephrine.”

Buck listened while everyone rattled off vitals as he continued to cut away Eddie’s wet clothes, then removed his boots and soaked socks. Buck started pilling warm blankets over Eddie’s legs and lower torso. He wanted to wrap him in shock blankets, but they were still trying to assess and stabilize him for transport. 

He looked at the thermometer as it stubbornly remained at 89F. 

They each had a job: Hen monitored Eddie’s heart, Chim managed Eddie’s airway, Buck treated the hypothermia and would support wherever possible. He needed to keep Eddie's core temp from getting lower and potentially cause additional cardiac complications. Everything was a balancing act. 

Buck was anxious. He kept glancing between Chim and Hen, waiting to finish wrapping Eddie in blankets to re-warm him.

“Oxygen sats at 63 and falling.” Chim glanced up the group. “We may need a rebreather.”

One of the other firefighters was quick in locating one and having it on standby.

“Hold up,” Hen warned looking at the monitors. “His cardiac rhythm is all over the place.”

Hypothermic patients needed their heart rate assessed constantly. As their body temperature returned to normal, it released cold blood throughout the rest of their body, sending mixed signals to the heart. Eddie’s pulse was weak and beating irregularly. Buck held his breath. If Eddie’s heart rate didn’t stabilize, they would have to shock it back into normal rhythm. 

“Grabbing the automated external defibrillator,” he said in preparation. 

“O2 levels still falling,” Chim warned. “I’m going to have to intubate.” 

Buck froze at those words. It was one thing to have to insert a tube into a victim’s throat to breathe for them; it was another when it was someone he knew. It was another thing entirely when it was _Eddie._

In that moment reality smacked Buck in the face, a cold harsh realization that Eddie was in real trouble. His body was shutting down, he was freaking decompensating in front of Buck’s eyes and Buck couldn’t react, couldn’t fall apart. All he could do was his job and keep Eddie alive. 

Chim grabbed the intubation kit and slid the ET tube into place. “I’m in,” he said, inflating the cuff and bagging again. 

But Eddie’s pulse continued to fluctuate. “We need to get him back to normal rhythm,” Buck said, desperate. 

Hen placed one defibrillator pad on the right side of Eddie’s chest below the collarbone, and the other on the lower left side of the chest. Buck couldn’t stop staring where the AED pad barely touched the outline of the scar there, a GSW Eddie would never talk about. 

Even now, Buck had no idea the whole story behind it. Yet, there were times when Buck’s lips got too close to the faded marks and Eddie would jerk or pull way, then apologize for the involuntary response.

Would Buck ever learn why? Would Eddie feel close enough to share with him something that had such a significant impact on his life?

Buck shook his head and tried clearing distracting thoughts. Not now. Focus. 

Hen looked at everyone. “Starting at 100. Clear.”

Buck held his hands up and away.

Eddie’s body jerked in response. The AED screen continued to show dysrhythmia. Buck moved over and started the first round of chest compressions. 

“Come on, Eddie,” he huffed in between breaths. “You can do this.”

After two minutes Buck pulled back, all eyes on the monitor. He could feel Bobby’s tension from where he stood behind Buck, Chim’s intense focus as he bagged, breathing for Eddie. 

Hen glared at the display and shook her head in frustration. The first shock wasn’t enough to get his rhythm under control. She increased the current. “150. Clear.”

Buck did another round of chest compressions, his own pulse racing, sweat beading in his hairline. He sat back, panting. 

“We’ve got normal rhythm!” Hen yelled in relief. 

There was no time for celebration. Buck started wrapping Eddie with the rest of the shock blankets before taking another temperature reading. “His temp dropped another degree; I think we should try a gradual re-warming on the way to the ER.” 

Chim shook his head. “He’s still bradycardic. I wouldn’t risk re-warming him now and possibly sending him into VR.”

Buck disagreed. “We’re twenty minutes out, do we really want to risk further shock or…or more arrhythmia if we don’t? We can do chest compressions to ensure his rhythm.”

Bobby stepped in. “We’ll use a warm IV infuser during transport and well as external radiant heater. Hen, keep running epinephrine. Chim—”

“I’ll keep bagging him.”

Bobby nodded. 

“I’ll keep giving him chest compressions,” Buck said.

Bobby and Chim looked at each other, then at Buck. “Do it,” Bobby said.

“And I’ll switch out with you,” Hen said, gathering everything.

Other members of the 118 made a path and as they all prepared to load Eddie into an ambulance.

* * *

Buck’s arms trembled with the effort, but he continued chest compressions, keeping Eddie’s heart in normal rhythm while his body slowly, gradually re-warmed. 

He’d broken one of Eddie’s ribs already, but that didn’t matter. All that counted was keeping his heart pumping in a controlled, normal matter, ensuring his circulation remained intact, providing oxygen rich blood to his brain. 

Ten minutes en route Eddie started to improve. His complexion went from ash-grey to just pale white. His bradycardia leveled out and his pulse started to climb to more acceptable levels.

But it was the sight of his eyes opening that made something deep inside Buck break apart, the fear that gripped his whole being slowly releasing. 

Chim leaned over Eddie’s face. “Hey buddy, welcome back. I know you really want me to remove this tube, but I’ve got to keep it in there until reach the ER. Do you understand?”

Eddie closed his eyes, nodding weakly. When he opened them up again, he looked at Buck, his gaze tired, but broadcasting warmth and relief and need.

With an improved pulse and BP, Buck settled back and stopped compressions. He was able to make out the shape of Eddie’s arm, located where his hand was, and squeezed it between layers of blankets. 

It wasn’t until then that Buck realized how close he’d come to losing him.

* * *

Waiting rooms sucked. Buck had spent his fair share of time in them. It’d been over an hour since Eddie had been taken into a trauma room far from the eyes and ears of his crew.

An hour was a long time for Buck’s imagination to go wild. Being a first responder meant he knew how many ways things could go sideways. 

A cup of coffee appeared in front of his face and Buck looked up to Maddie’s sympathetic expression. “Thanks.”

“Any word?”

“No.”

“He’s stable when you brought him in; that’s a good sign.”

“Yeah, for someone who had to have people regulate his heartbeat and breathing.” Buck couldn’t help the negative words; he was beyond drained. 

Maddie sat beside him and took his hand. “He’s young and strong…and he’s got _you.”_

“Sometimes I wonder. If that’s enough…or if _I’m_ enough.”

“How so?” she asked squeezing his hand.

“It’s nothing. I mean, it’s not important in the grand scheme of things.”

“Buck….”

“Could we just drop it?”

“Sure.” Sitting back Maddie looked around the busy waiting room. “What about Christopher?”

That had been his number priority after arrival. 

“I spoke to Carla. She’s keeping Christopher from watching the news. We told him that his dad’s hurt, but he’s going to be okay.”

“Which is true, Buck. You’re not lying.”

Buck scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Yeah. I mean, if things go well, maybe in the morning?”

She looked at him with confidence. “I think that’s a realistic goal.”

* * *

Buck entered the ICU with trepidation. He hadn’t slept, hadn’t eaten much and every time he’d close his eyes, all he saw was the cut piece of rope in his hands, hear Eddie’s horrible wheeze for air, his red-rimmed eyes staring at Buck like he was a stranger.

But it was six in the morning and he wanted to see Eddie first before Carla brought Christopher over to visit later. They’d agreed Buck should go in and assess the situation so they could prepare Chris for anything.

The ICU nurse had informed Buck they’d just removed the rebreather and replaced it with a full oxygen mask which was good news.

He walked in and pulled the chair up to the railing. Eddie was covered with fresh warming blankets; Buck could feel the heat from where he rested his hand on top of Eddie’s arm hidden below the mound of fabric.

Sitting there quietly, Buck realized with utmost clarity the depth of his feelings for Eddie, and with that clarity came absolute terror.

“Hey.”

Startled, Buck looked over at Eddie who was watching him through half open eyelids. “Hey, yourself. How…how are you feeling?”

“Like an elephant…is sitting on my chest.”

“Yeah. Sorry about that,” Buck said with a wince. “Chest compressions cracked a rib. And you have some pulmonary edema and the beginnings of pneumonia.”

“And a concussion.” Eddie closed his eyes, breathing heavy on his oxygen. “Hayden?”

“He’s fine. He went home last night. Thanks to you.” Buck swallowed, his voice shaking. “I’m sorry Eddie…I…we had no idea how to get you out. But we were trying. You gotta know that. I can’t imagine…being trapped like that…I….”

He stopped himself from rambling. He was here to offer support, not lean all over Eddie while he was sick.

“It was…terrifying,” Eddie swallowed. “The most terrifying thing I think I’ve ever been through…except when….”

“When what?” Buck asked really wanting to know. 

“Nothing.”

Buck’s heart sank, wishing so much that Eddie felt comfortable enough, trusted him enough to unburden himself of such an obvious weight. 

“When am I getting discharged?” Eddie shifted under his covers, agitated. “Christopher’s show and tell….”

“Hey, take it easy now. Just a few hours ago you were hanging by a thread.”

“I need to see him…I need….” Eddie braced an arm around his chest as he started to cough.

Worry shot through Buck. He bent over and rested a hand on Eddie’s shoulder while he coughed and sputtered from under the mask. “Take it easy.”

Eddie’s whole body trembled from the cough fit until he slowly settled back against the bed totally spent. “Thank you,” Eddie said his voice razor thin. “For…not giving up.”

The tone of Eddie’s voice reflected surprise, like Buck or any of the 118 would have just abandoned him. “Hey, of course not. Never. You understand me?”

Leaning over, Buck kissed Eddie’s cheek, surprised at the moisture trailing down the skin. “Never, Eds. _Never.”_

* * *

Buck stood in the corner while Christopher made his way over to his father. The bed was slightly raised so Eddie could reach out to his son and hug him without too much strain. Carla remained close, but far enough away just in case either of them needed a helping hand. Eddie was still on oxygen, but the mask couldn’t hide how happy he was to see little boy.

“Dad,” Christopher said, burying his head into Eddie’s chest. 

“Christopher,” Eddie said as if he thought he’d never see him again. His voice choked on his son’s name, Eddie held onto Chris, rubbing a hand over his back, obviously trying his best not to cough. “I’ve got you; I’ve got you.”

“I was scared, Dad.”

Eddie kissed Chris on the forehead. “I know you were, but I’m going to be okay.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

It took everything in Buck’s power not to break down in tears at the emotion in the room.

* * *

Buck went home and showered and changed and fell asleep on his sofa. It was evening by the time he woke up and chided himself for sleeping most of the day away.

He arrived at the hospital right before the end of ICU visiting hours. He checked in with the nurse’s station to get an update; the RN in charge of Eddie’s care offering a wan smile. “He’s had a rough few hours with the shortness of breath. We’ve increased his O2 levels, but he’s pretty exhausted.”

Eddie’s bed was still elevated and he was still covered in blankets, but the one thing Buck didn’t expect was to find Eddie staring, dejected, at the ceiling, his oxygen mask on his chest and not where it should be.

“Hey.” Buck reached through the bedrail to touch Eddie’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s me. Shouldn’t the mask be over your face for it to work?”

Eddie turned his head away and Buck felt a familiar disconnection. Sitting down heavily in the chair, Buck wondered if he’d even have time to pry at Eddie’s walls today. If he should even try.

“I almost left him….”

Buck’s ears perked up in surprise at the mysterious admission. “Left who?”

“Christopher. His mom died last year and last night I almost….”

_Oh shit._

Buck wanted to grab Eddie’s wrist, but it was hidden away, instead Buck rested a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “But you didn’t. You fought like hell and you made it.”

“I almost gave up.” Eddie drew a ragged breath. “I was under water and I had no idea where I was going, or if there was even a way to the surface…and I…I felt myself fade.” He closed his eyes, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “I almost left him…almost left _you….”_

“Eddie….”

“How many times am I going to fail him, Buck? I enlisted in the Army just to…run away?” Eddie shook his head. “Then I reenlisted _again._ And what happened? My chopper gets shot down and my team and I almost get run over by the enemy.”

This was the most Eddie had ever talked about his time in the military to Buck. It sounded awful. 

Wiping at his eyes, Eddie stared at Buck, his despair making Buck’s heart break into millions of pieces. “I _killed_ people. I don’t even know how many.”

“You did what you had to protect your team, Eddie.”

Eddie snorted, obviously the pain still fresh in his head. “I went back into that bird…and I pulled out every last person.” He sucked in another painful gulp of air. “I didn’t even hesitate. I just moved…it was instinct. But when I returned home…I didn’t even know how to be a father, or a husband.”

Breathing slowly, Eddie cleared his throat, looking at Buck like he expected him to run away. “That’s why I don’t like talking about my time overseas, or the star…. I’m…I’m _not_ the hero my son thinks I am.”

Stunned at the raw vulnerability of guilt and pain, Buck leaned even closer to Eddie, hoping, _praying_ he could convey what was burning inside his heart. “Yes, _you are._ You save people and that means you put yourself in dangerous situations. Maybe the reason for enlisting in the Army was influenced by other stuff, but your actions, putting others before yourself, that is being a hero.”

Buck kept looking at Eddie with the genuine earnestness, trying to convey the depth of his sincerity with his voice. “And you do that for Christopher every single day. Raising him, loving him, ensuring he has the best school, the best doctors.”

Eddie looked away, doing the thing he always did when forced to talk about uncomfortable topics. But Buck wasn’t about to stop. “People fail at things. I fail, and so do you. But I recall a wise person once said that if you love someone enough, you keep trying.”

Reaching out, Buck wiped away the tear slowing rolling down Eddie’s face. “Eddie. You almost died. Your body and your mind are pretty freaking overwhelmed right now. Give it time; _give yourself_ time.” Buck put the mask back over Eddie’s mouth and nose. “Mostly, give yourself a break.”

Eddie pulled his arm free of the mountain of blankets and reached over. Buck took his hand, intertwining their fingers together. 

“Thank you,” Eddie said through the mask, squeezing Buck’s hand. “For everything.”

“Yeah, well, when you help keep someone’s heart beating for twenty minutes, you share a special bond with them.”

Eddie managed a half laugh then took another breath, looking over at Buck. “Do you think…you could help me with the story for Christopher’s class? If I tell you the full adult version, would you help me edit it down to a kid’s?”

Buck felt warmth spread through his veins and into his heart. He couldn’t help the small grin that relaxed his face despite the seriousness of the topic. Squeezing Eddie’s hand, he nodded. “I would love to.”

* * *

Fini-

After the WWII epic, it was fun to write something canon(ish) :)

Title from the Foo Fighters- _My Hero_

Comments are always appreciated.

Come hang with me here: https://thekristen999.tumblr.com/


End file.
